


Enough

by Desdimonda



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7192547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desdimonda/pseuds/Desdimonda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angela hears Fareeha struggle to put on her prosthetics and goes to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

“Shit,” said Fareeha as her arm slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor with a clang.

Angela jumped, startled by the noise. She set down her tools by her splayed Valkyrie and rose from her knelt position on the floor, wincing at the ache in her back.

“Fareeha, are you alright?” asked Angela as she walked, turning the corner to where she knew Fareeha sat.

“Fine,” she lied, staring at the discarded prosthetic arm that had rolled several feet from her position on the table.

“Sure you are,” she said with a kind smile as she walked to Fareeha, her bare feet padding over the cold stone floor of their temporary camp, inside a deserted high rise. “You have one leg and one arm on. You sure look fine.”

Fareeha sighed and made to step off the table, her metal foot poised. But Angela reached her first, and with a steady hand, pushed her back, one hand catching her hand, the other her shoulder, where flesh met metal.

“I said I’m fine,” protested Fareeha, more forcefully than she had wished, as she stated at Angela, inches from her position.

“Let me help,” she said, her fingers idly weaving between Fareeha’s as she spoke.

“I don’t need your help - or anyone’s.” Fareeha looked away as she spoke, bitter words slipping past her lips, sharp, scathing. She stared at the blank wall. Shattered. Broken. Unable to stand anymore; it’s foundations crumbled, gone.

Like her.

But this had been her choice. This had been her decision to try and make herself a better fighter; to make herself a better leader; to protect this world.

If she had to break herself to help others, she would. She would not stop. She would not relent until the world was right. But some days, some moments, she needed help.

Like now.

“Fareeha,” said Angela, her voice gentle, like her touch. A touch that slid along her shoulder, that met the slide of Fareeha’s cheek and pulled her head around to face her.

Her fingers were cold, brisk against the flush of her cheek. They always were.

Fareeha caught her gaze, searching her blue eyes, wide with worry. They always were.

But now, they worried for her. She, worried for her.

Curving metal fingers around Angela’s hand, Fareeha dipped her head in apology, tilting her head into Angela’s touch, just a little, just enough.

“I’m tired,” said Fareeha. “I wasn’t quick enough today. I watched an innocent die because I was too slow.” She paused and closed her eyes, tightening the hold on Angela’s hand. “I wasn’t enough.”

Angela stepped forward, closing the small gap between them. Fareeha’s metal leg dragged against Angela’s thigh. She drew her hand around, fingers weaving through the thick, black hair that was pushed to one side. Gently, she eased out the knots, feeling the warmth of Fareeha’s body radiate against her skin.

“You are enough. You do so much for those you love, those you know and those you don’t. You are tireless. Fearless.” She paused and squeezed Fareeha’s hand with her next words. “I admire you.”

At that, Fareeha opened her eyes and looked up at Angela, a breath away from her face; her fingers winding through her hair; her lips curved to a timid smile.

Fareeha searched for something to say. She tried to find the right words. But nothing came; nothing was enough.

So with parted lips, with the slide of her hand, gliding along Angela’s bare arm, dappled in goosebumps, she leaned forward and caught her in a kiss.


End file.
